


Care to Inquisit Me Again?

by LadyLuckOfMine



Series: AmatusParadeWeek [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Aftercare, Ass to Mouth, Bindings, Dirty Talk, Hair-pulling, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Spanking, role play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 17:44:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7277704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLuckOfMine/pseuds/LadyLuckOfMine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone has been selling information to the Inquisition's enemies, and unfortunately for Dorian, it seems like, as always, he is the prime suspect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Care to Inquisit Me Again?

“It wasn’t me! I swear it!”

The Inquisitor looked over at Dorian, his expression unamused as he pulled the leather glove over his hand. A white brow was quirked as piercing violet eyes studied the mage, his gaze unwavering. It made Dorian want to shrink underneath it, to vanish and be out of the elf’s sight. His heart was already beating quickly in his chest, his breath trembling as he watched the Inquisitor pace around him.

The Inquisitor reminded him of a dragon, circling its prey, claws digging into the dirt as it prepared to unleash utter devastation. Wings furled at his back, tail swaying, almost hypnotizing, and ready to let out a fiery breath that would burn anything that got in his way. It was horrifying, to be bound in naught but the small clothes he had slept in, and kneeling on the floor, with the feared Inquisitor circling him, looking past him, as if he wasn’t a person.

“Please,” Dorian began, licking his lips nervously. “You _must_ believe me, Lord Inquisitor. I would never have—“

“Silence.” The word was spoken, his tone low, but behind the word was a force strong enough to hold Dorian’s tongue still and kill his voice. The elf had finally stopped in front of Dorian, finally turning his eyes to meet Dorian’s. Dorian couldn’t look away as the elf stared him down, his expression that careful mask that the Inquisitor always wore to hide how he was really feeling. Were he not currently terrified for his life, Dorian would have been impressed with how well trained the Dalish elf was in hiding everything away. As if he had been born to lead one of the most powerful organizations in Thedas.

It hurt, a little, to think that his own parents would have most likely preferred the Inquisitor as their heir than him. Elvhen blood aside.

The Inquisitor took a step towards him, his every movement controlled and calculated. There was no mistaking him as anything other than a battle worn warrior, a man who had led the most daring humans, elves, dwarves, and even Qunari into the face of death, only to survive and emerge victorious. Even with all his magic, Dorian felt pitifully weak in comparison, but given the elf’s specialization as a Templar, his magic would have barely made a difference. Though he had learned all too recently that he had been the reason for that choice.

No one trusted the Tevinter mage, it seemed. Dorian couldn’t find it in him to care. After a while, he had gotten use to the constant suspicions. People were always watching him, their eyes on him like angry wolves, waiting to tear into him at the first sign of something not being quite right. He had thought that, despite their rocky beginning, that the Inquisitor had come to trust him as closely as anyone else in the Inner circle.

It looked like he had been deadly wrong.

That gloved hand, hidden away beneath the mark, roughly grabbed Dorian by the chin, applying a bruising amount of pressure. He was forced to show his face to the Inquisitor. He was sure he looked a sorry sight, kohl smudged, hair disheveled from all the rough treatment he had received. A downright sorry sight, he was sure.

“You are the only one who could have done this, mage,” the Inquisitor said, his tone as flat as earlier, but there was something in it, something he couldn’t name, that struck fear into Dorian’s heart. The Inquisitor observed him, his eyes cold, no sign of any affection he may have once held towards Dorian. No, he had lost all that trust because he had been in the wrong spot at the wrong time.

Dorian opened his mouth, lips trying to find words to defend himself with, but not a sound came. It may as well have been an admission of guilt in the Inquisitor’s eyes. Silence was always an affirmative with the guilty.

The Inquisitor’s grip tightened, until Dorian was sure the elf would break his jaw, before the pressure let up. He dropped his hand and took a step back to eye Dorian contemplatively.

“There was much damage done. I cannot let you away with it. You will have to pay for it all,” the Inquisitor said, his eyes roaming over Dorian, making him feel like little more than a piece of meat to be consumed. The look in the Inquisitor’s eyes when their gazes met was enough to make a shiver run up and down Dorian’s spine as the elf took another step back, and then another, until he turned on his heel. Dorian watched as the Inquisitor made his way to a stand in the room, the very spacious quarter’s of the Herald of Andraste himself. Dorian imagined that not all of the elf’s prisoners were brought here for interrogation, and Dorian prided himself on his intelligence. He had a good idea of what was in store for him.

Coming back, the Inquisitor held a strip of plaidweave in hand, and Dorian recoiled at the sight of it. How fitting, to be blinded by the hideous fabric that haunted his nightmares. Dorian tried to jerk his head away, but the Inquisitor still managed to tie the fabric around his eyes, blinding him. It was fear inspiring, to know that the Inquisitor could watch him, while Dorian had nothing to see, no indication of what expression the elf wore.

There was warm breath ghosting against the shell of his ear, a pair of lips nipping at the tender flesh.

“Okay?” A single word, soft, completely out of character, and Dorian almost had to laugh. It had been so believable he had almost forgotten.

“Okay,” he replied back, softly, as if their whispered words weren’t ruining the fantasy. There was a soft kiss pressed to his temple, before Alris was gone, and the Inquisitor stood before him once more.

“You will not speak unless I demand it of you,” the Inquisitor said, this time, his tone dead serious, a threat hanging on each words. “You will do exactly as I tell you to. If you fail to comply, I have men who would gladly take over for me. Men less pleasant to _traitors_ ” The word is hissed out, and the Inquisitor’s disgust is obvious. He has lost all trust in Dorian. He refused to believe Dorian’s pleas that he wasn’t the guilty one, that he had no part in any of it. Dorian knew that the Inquisitor was unforgiving to all those who opposed him, and prayed that by doing as he was told, he might be able to prove his innocence.

There was the rustle of fabric, and Dorian knew what was to come. He didn’t need to be told what to do when he felt the heavy head of the Inquisitor’s cock press against lips, demanding him to open wide. He did. Dorian relaxed his jaw and throat as the Inquisitor thrust in sharply. He gagged at the sudden intrusion until the Inquisitor drew back completely.

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

Then, it was back, and Dorian had to focus on swallowing the intruding member. He moved his tongue, as if to pleasure the Inquisitor with it, but a hand grabbed his hair and tugged sharply. A sound of shock escaped Dorian.

“I did not tell you to do that.” There it was. That angry tone. He had heard it only a few times, only directed towards those who wore the Inquisitor’s patience thin. Those people rarely survived long enough to see the Inquisitor’s good side again. Not that many people actually made it onto that side.

Still, Dorian would try, and he was pliant, playing along as the Inquisitor slowly thrust into his mouth, hips moving in a steady rhythm. The elf seemed to have decided that Dorian deserved the kindness of being warmed up, as each thrust brought him deeper into the mage’s mouth, until Dorian could feel the head hitting the back of his throat, and even further, until Dorian felt his nose brush against the softest tuft of hair just above the Inquisitor’s navel. He imagined it was as pure a white as the hair of the elf’s head.

The Inquisitor didn’t make a sound as he continued to fuck Dorian’s mouth, and he had to wonder if the elf was deriving any pleasure out of this. Or maybe it was just the elf’s way of cleaning out a traitor’s mouth, humiliating them, reminding them where exactly they belonged. It wasn’t hard for Dorian to figure out where he belonged in the Inquisitor’s eyes. He wouldn’t argue with it. It made something stir within him to be used like this.

“How many have you sucked off willingly before, I wonder?” the Inquisitor growled. Dorian could imagine the scowl on his face. “Is that why you gave our information away so willingly? Because they promised to let you suck their cocks?”

It was hard to respond with one already in his mouth, but Dorian tried, managing his best to make a sound of disagreement. Perhaps he hadn’t been meant to answer that as the Inquisitor thrust in and kept himself hilt deep. He could practically _feel_ the glare burning holed into the top of his head.

“I did not ask you to respond.”

Dorian tried to swallow nervously, but the cock currently sitting in his throat made that a difficult task. However, it did draw a soft sound from the Inquisitor, and the gloved hand pulled at his hair again.

“How insolent.” Then the Inquisitor was moving again, faster this time, again and again. Dorian could do nothing but accept it, trying to ignore the warm feeling starting to spread in his groin. Dorian had always loved pleasing his lovers with his mouth, that was true. To some it was degrading, but he had never seen it as such. He found it intimate, more intimate than he was ever allowed. But now, his love was being used against him, in an attempt to humiliate him. Dorian knew what the Inquisitor would think if the elf just looked down and saw the faintest hint of excitement. He would take it as confirmation that Dorian had truly sold out the Inquisition for a good mouth fucking.

Dorian tried to steel himself, tried to think of anything but the thick cock being rammed in and out of his mouth, but it was hard. It seemed like that every time Dorian managed to find some way to tune it out, the Inquisitor would force him back to paying attention, often with a rougher thrust. It was almost like the Inquisitor was setting him up to fail.

After all they had been through…

The Inquisitor pulled out, and Dorian found his patience wearing thin at how inconsistent the elf was being with his methods. He was either going to fuck his mouth until he came, or he had to decide to do something else. Dorian might have admitted to selling the Inquisition out if he knew it would make something happen.

He felt the Inquisitor run his thumb along his lower lip, and Dorian could imagine that his lips were swollen, reddened, from their previous activity.

“You look good with my cock in your greedy mouth. I wonder where else it would look good…” A sentence trailing off, the hand in his hair loosening its grip. “Will you submit to the Inquisition, shem? Admit to your betrayal? Or must I rip it from you?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake. I have told you already, it wasn’t me!” He meant to snap, but his words came out as husky whine, pathetic. The Inquisitor chuckled from somewhere above him, the sound rumbling in the elf’s broad chest. Before Dorian knew it, his face was pressed against the floor, a bare foot holding his head there.

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I know it was you. My agents have been following you for quite some time, shem. We know where you go, who you talk to. The Iron Bull is never one to lie in his accusations,” the Inquisitor said, keeping his foot pressed firmly against Dorian’s skull. “You will talk. You will confess.”

“I cannot confess to something I did not do!” Dorian almost regretted those words the moment they left his mouth. The Inquisitor’s foot vanished, and for a moment, Dorian had no sense of where the elf was. He was completely blind, and the warrior moved silently, from years of living in the wild and stalking prey. It wasn’t until he felt fingers brush up the back of his bare thigh that he clued in on where the elf had gone.

The fingers were calloused, large, larger than most men’s even, and short, dull nails scratched against his thigh. He felt the elf grab his small clothes, and then there was an unceremonious ripping sound, and suddenly, he was completely naked, ass up and presenting to the Inquisitor. Dorian swallowed heavily.

“I am sure I can change your mind on that,” the elf said, fingers drifting to caress too gently across the swell of his ass. “Even if I have to fuck the truth out of you.”

A shiver ran up Dorian’s spine, and he licked his lips, trying to focus. He couldn’t let the elf make him admit to something that wasn’t true. It would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Teeth were suddenly at the tender flesh of his ass as the Inquisitor bite down, just hard enough to sting. It pulled a hiss from Dorian who squirmed against the bite. His thighs were bound together. He couldn’t spread them, which was a blessing at the time. If Dorian could have, the Inquisitor would have been given a full view of his growing arousal.

That mouth moved, until he felt hot breath ghost over the puckered ring of skin, and he had to inhale sharply at the sensation. He wouldn’t, would he?

Dorian didn’t have to wait long for a response as a tongue lapped lazily against it, then again, and again. He could feel the bite of the cool, mountain air from the open balcony windows drifting in, and it was mind numbing when it hit the wet flesh that the Inquisitor’s tongue left behind. But Dorian wouldn’t make a sound, as he bit down on his lower lip to prevent any noises from escaping him. But then, he felt the skillful tongue that could wow a crowd of Orlesian nobles just as easily as it could slip out crude jokes, press in past the ring of muscle, and that drew a long, low moan from Dorian. The Inquisitor took his sweet time stretching the man with his tongue, a hand on each globe of Dorian’s ass, pushing them open to bare Dorian to the world.

It was torture, the muscle not able to reach deep enough to give Dorian the full force of pleasure. He tried to rock his hips back, but the Inquisitor kept him still with a strong grip. As if to punish him for daring to try to seek out more, the elf pulled away, humming.

“What a whore,” the Inquisitor mused, before slapping one perfectly round cheek with his open palm. A yelp escaped Dorian, though he was shocked to find some sort of sick pleasure mixed in with the pain that made his cock twitch with interest. “Do you want me in you? Fucking you until you are filled with my seed? You may answer.”

“Yes,” Dorian gasped breathlessly, and then he was slapped again on the other cheek.

“Admit it then.”

“Never.”

“Stubborn. I will enjoy watching you break then.” Dorian could hear the wolfish grin in his voice, and then there was the sound of a bottle being opened. He could guess what it was from the sounds of it being spread over something. Oil.

Dorian braced himself for a probing digit, or maybe even the Inquisitor’s cock trying to force its way inside of his tight hole. Instead, he felt the Inquisitor press himself to Dorian’s hips, and that’s when the confusion set in.

“What are you—oh.”

With a powerful thrust, the Inquisitor’s cock slid between Dorian’s thighs, brushing against the underside of Dorian’s. The Inquisitor drew back, before thrusting again, using Dorian’s thighs to give himself friction, a low chuckle escaping him.

“You have lovely thighs. I could spend myself using just them, not give you what you crave. Sound like a plan?”

“No,” Dorian said, brow furrowing as the Inquisitor thrust in harder, a soft sound escaping the elf. That was just dirty. Despite the friction it gave his poor cock, it wouldn’t be enough for him. It did explain why the man had bound his legs together however.

“Then admit it.”

It would be his last chance to. He didn’t know what would happen if he continued to refuse. But if he gave in, if he lied, he would get the Inquisitor, buried deep inside of him and fucking him properly until he screamed. It was… a difficult choice. One Dorian had to make quickly, as the Inquisitor was not patient or kind.

“Fine, I did it! I sold the information to the Venatori, so that they could _fuck me_ they way you never could,” Dorian hissed out, struggling against his bonds. There, he had given the Inquisitor the answer he wanted. He was rewarded with the elf stilling, and then a slicked finger pressing to his entrance.

“What a terrible liar you are,” the Inquisitor said, shoving his finger in roughly, and Dorian wriggled around it. The elf didn’t give him time to really adjust to the intrusion before shoving a second finger in. He moved his fingers mercilessly, focusing on stretching Dorian, and taking great caution to avoid Dorian’s prostate. “Is this what you wanted? For me to fuck you like you are nothing more than a toy for my pleasure?” the Inquisitor asked, thrusting a third finger. “I bet you have done this to yourself, imagining it was me.”

“Yes,” Dorian admitted. “I have.”

“Which makes you?”

“A hopeless little _slut_ ,” Dorian hissed, hips jerking back in protest when the Inquisitor drew his fingers out of him, leaving him feeling utterly empty.

“Now there is the truth.” A loud cry escaped Dorian, not one of pain but pleasure, as the Inquisitor suddenly shoved himself gracelessly into Dorian’s eager hole. He was given no time to adjust, as the Inquisitor set a fast and merciless pace, the elf’s hands on his hips again, hold him still as the Inquisitor fucked into him again and again. “Will you come from just this? I am sure you love it enough to be able to.”

Dorian grit his teeth, not able to think of a properly witty reply as the Inquisitor continued his brutal pace that bordered on that marvelous line between pain and pleasure. His knees hurt as the stone floor pressed into them, but Dorian didn’t care. All thoughts about anything was wiped clean from his mind when a brutal thrust of the Inquisitor’s cock knocked the head directly against his prostate. A loud cry of pleasure escaped him, and he may as well have sic’d a pack of wolves upon himself as the Inquisitor took that as his cue to aim there.

It was relentless, nonstopping, with every other thrust hitting that glorious spot, making Dorian cry out louder and louder until he could go no louder. It was fast, rough, purely primal, and his own cock was leaking, as it bounced in time with each thrust. It was too late now to hope for his pride to survive this intact, especially as he came with one more sharp drive into his prostate, his cum spurting forth in hot, jerking streams. He tightened around the Inquisitor, who continued through Dorian’s orgasm, forcing it to last just that much longer, to the point where the pleasure _hurt_.

Then, with one finishing, powerful thrust, the elf’s hips snapped forward, driving him deep, and Dorian had to wonder just how differently elves bred as he felt the Inquisitor empty himself deep within Dorian, a low growl coming from the Inquisitor as he forcefully kept Dorian’s ass flush against his hips as he came.

After a moment, when both of them came down from their highs, Dorian felt Alris’ grip loosen, and then quick fingers undid the tie around his eyes, and then his arms. Alris pulled Dorian back onto his lap, not once letting himself slip out, as the elf undid the ropes around Dorian’s legs, before kissing him softly on the cheek.

“Okay?” Alris asked, violet eyes looking over Dorian, as if he worried he had been too rough with the man.

“Okay,” Dorian said, smiling at him softly. The elf’s expression of worry softened into a lazy smile, and the two shared a gentle kiss.

“Thank you, for obliging me with that fantasy,” Dorian finally breathed out after the kiss ended. Alris laughed softly, burying his face in the crook of his neck.

“It was my pleasure, ma’vhen’an. You look wonderful with my cock in your mouth,” Alris said, fingers drifting over Dorian, checking for any accidental injuries. He found none, however, and allowed himself to relax completely.

A few minutes later found Dorian being laid on the bed gently as Alris padded around the room, getting a warm, wet cloth, and bringing over a plate with fresh grapes and slices of jerky on it. Alris was careful as he cleaned the mess from Dorian, glancing up once in a while to make sure the man was eating the grapes.

It was a wonderful sensation to be cared for so gently after such a role play. Dorian smiled, making himself comfortable against the pillows until Alris was done fussing and ready to join him for some well deserved cuddling.

The elf wasted no time, and soon enough, Dorian was able to lay himself on top of Alris, a content smile on his face as they shared another kiss, this one much deeper and passionate than before.

“Ar lath ma.”

“I love you too, amatus.”


End file.
